


502. Puddin' pop

by SevlinRipley



Category: It - All Media Types
Genre: Dominant Richie Tozier, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Submissive Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-08-27 21:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16709959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevlinRipley/pseuds/SevlinRipley
Summary: The expression makes Eddie feel warm down his neck and his finger pauses along its path. His hand, fallen back to his side, clenches. And he swallows back the flaring ache between his legs.Not wanting to get his hopes up if this time, unlike the others, Richie says no.Because he’s made it very clear that’s an option.





	502. Puddin' pop

**Author's Note:**

> This is from July 31st. Read on [Tumblr](https://jacksbrak.tumblr.com/post/177928198770/puddin-pop).

“Hey, Rich…” Eddie says, before pulling his lower lip into his mouth, peeking into Richie’s office. The door was finally open after _hours_. Richie had been diligently recording an audio book in their tiny, but professional at-home recording booth.

At first, Eddie worried over how hot it could get in the small space, kept as quiet as possible - no fans, no windows for a breeze. But Richie had a small and thankfully quiet, refrigerator with cold water, and a light-based timer that would flash at him every half an hour so that he didn’t sink into total, timeless oblivion.

Slowly, Eddie had adjusted to the idea of Richie being safe enough, responsible enough. Not to mention the fact that he enjoyed the ritualistic cool shower Richie often pulled him into, after exiting. At least on the days in which Eddie’s shop schedule allowed for it.

Drawing his finger up the door frame, Eddie runs his other hand through the hair at the side of his head and pushes forward. “I was wondering…” He watches, as Richie’s mouth tugs up in a little half-smirk, even as he continues to mark up the script he has before him, with the director’s notes.

The expression makes Eddie feel warm down his neck and his finger pauses along its path. His hand, fallen back to his side, clenches. And he swallows back the flaring ache between his legs.

Not wanting to get his hopes up if this time, unlike the others, Richie says no.

Because he’s made it very clear that’s an option.

‘You’re lucky I like your face when you cum so much, Eds… Some day I might wring enough orgasms out of you to not be nearly so desperate to see that pretty little face again. Gotta admit, I’m growing more and more curious by the day, over what your face might look like after a few solid hours of desperation only to realize I’ve been working you toward nothing, in particular, at all.’

Like Richie’s hand might just disappear off of him and not come back. Not the way Eddie’d want, anyway. Possibly, only, to tease his cock hard again hours later, and then leave him begging for it all over again.

“Could you,” Eddie starts, but then quickly amends (because Richie _could_ , sure but…), “Would you uh …come touch me? Please?” He makes his voice sweet. It’s not his voice sugar-coated, or anything. He’s not making it sound like he _expects_ he’ll get something if he acts cute enough. It’s just quiet, and high-pitched enough to show that he knows the power lies in Richie’s hands. That he’s hopeful, but will take Richie’s decision for what it is.

That’s what he’s going for, anyway, because so far Richie has responded to it well. Then again, he hasn’t _actually_ known Richie to deny him anything. And somehow that made the threat of Richie one day doing so all the more thrilling.

For now, Eddie’s seeing if Richie has a true pattern - if Eddie just sticks to the status quo will Richie ever actually change the way they play? But he’s already started toying with ideas of how to push other buttons.

In fact, that’s what got Eddie so wound up in the first place.

Sitting back on their bed, freshly showered after a long day of work: giving orders to his (sometimes) hapless employees, correcting mistakes and trying to get on top of projects that were repeatedly pushed to the side. He’d found his brain searching for ways to turn off. To relax and stop running over the numbers in his head, imagery of cars he was sick of seeing popping into his mind.

So he’d tried to shift the images to something he never tired of: Richie. And Richie’s hands on him. Of Richie’s mouth on his cock, and of Richie pulling off just as Eddie was about to come, and then kissing him and locking himself away for ten more hours while Eddie’s cock was slick and hard and desperate. He thought about it until his cock hurt and his hand itched to touch what wasn’t his so badly that if he didn’t get up and go to Richie right then, he _would_ have.

“Would I come touch you?” Richie asks, finally setting his pen down and looking up at Eddie, shadows above his glasses as the desk lamp filtered light across his face at a downward angle. Eddie bites into his lip a little, and then swallows harshly and nods. Richie gets this wide, amused grin on his face, and answers warmly, “Sure puddin’ pop! Wanna sit in my lap, here, or should we go to the bedroom?”

Eddie licks out at his lip at the offer. The thought of having Richie reach around him and jerk him off until he was cumming up onto the desk Richie worked at. But he also wanted to see Richie’s face. See how much Richie was enjoying himself. And maybe the chair could come later. “Bed, if that’s okay.”

Sweeping up from his desk, Richie’s mouthing at Eddie’s neck in seconds before letting his hand fall from Eddie’s jaw, to his hand, and pulling him along behind, to the bedroom. He undresses Eddie himself, thumbing at Eddie’s red-bitten lip every now and then, teasing Eddie over his pants, then briefs.

Once Eddie’s naked and sat against the headboard, with Richie close, he spreads his knees up over Richie’s crossed legs, so he can play with Eddie as he sees fit.

He gets Eddie as close as he can with light touches, until Eddie’s shaking with it, shoulders tight and his eyes closed, lip spit-slick with the effort of drawing it out and not letting himself get too close to an orgasm.

“Do you wanna cum, baby?” Eddie nods. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“I - Richie, I want to cum.”

“Okay, but how _much_ to you want to cum? A little, or a lot? Be honest.”

“A - uh - a little.”

“That’s what I thought… Did you maybe just want me to touch you so you could feel important enough to tear me away from all the hard work I’ve been doing?” Eddie’s quiet. “You know… You _are_ more important. Than anything in that room. If I could tease you all day, I would. Constantly keep you on edge so you know I’m paying attention to you, thinking about you, and what you need. All the damn time. I wish I could, baby. But because I can’t, I like to make you cum, because you’re so pretty for me when you do. And it makes me feel like I finished my job, even if I didn’t get to do it for very long. You understand, don’t you?”

Eddie nods, eyes a little wide and heart full, “I love you.”

“Baby… I love you too, more than anything. I’ll even let you choose. But choose carefully, cause you can’t take it back… Do you want to cum? Or do you want me to just play with you a few more minutes, and then you can ask again, tomorrow?”

“I… oh - fuck. I.” Eddie’s face flushes at having to choose. To choose _not_ to cum, to say that’s what he wants. That he wants aching balls, and for his cock to keep leaking, half-interested for hours upon incoming hours. “Don’t let me cum.”

“Okay, pretty, I won’t. Should I stroke faster for a minute, see if I can get you panting? Or do you want me to tease you nice and slow?”

 _”Richie_.“ He didn’t know why it was working him up so much to have to make these kinds of decisions, but Jesus it was.

"You gotta choose, Eds. I want to hear what you want, baby.”

“F - the first one, I guess.”

“You guess?” Richie asks, hand stalling completely. Eddie rocks his hips up, chasing it, but Richie takes his hands away, folding them behind his back. “Eddie,” he says, a warning, “You’re making me feel like I’m not taking care of you. Am I not being nice to you? Trying to figure out what you need so I can give it to you?”

“No!” Eddie says desperately, climbing up into Richie’s lap so he can kiss Richie’s cheeks, “You are. You are, I’m sorry. I want it fast. I want it to hurt when you pull away.” He wanted to get fucking whiplash from the immediate change, when Richie stopped.

“Oh…” Richie practically coos, “You are such a good boy, Eddie…” Richie’s eyes are dark as he slowly brings his hands to Eddie’s hips, thumbing at the bones there. “Is it okay if I suck on your chest while I do it, baby? You’re not gonna be bad and cum if I do, are you?”

“Uh-uh,” Eddie says, shaking his head in a daze from both the praise and the idea of Richie’s mouth on his nipples. “I’ll tell you.”

“You’ll tell me what, baby?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m about to cum.”

“You better, sweetheart. Or I’m gonna keep touching you till you cum again. And then you’re not cumming for a fucking week, okay?” He says it so sweetly, like Eddie won’t understand if he doesn’t use dulcet tones while petting the hair back at the side of Eddie’s head, looking deep into his eyes for comprehension.

“Okay,” Eddie whispers, eyes blown.


End file.
